


reunion

by bonebo



Series: McReyes Week '16 [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:59:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8690401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo





	

Too soon, work takes Gabriel away.

Switzerland calls and the Commanders of the free world--Morrison with his bright-lit press conferences, Reyes with his all-knowing shadows--must answer. It’s a week-long trip that Reyes kept quiet about. It starts on the worst Monday of Jesse’s new life, and he sulks around HQ avoiding his brothers in arms and mourns that he didn’t get to say goodbye.

It’s only seven days, he keeps telling himself. Just seven days, and most agents are grateful for the short-term break that the Commander’s leave grants them. To Jesse, each hour passes like a lifetime.

The next Sunday he stays awake, waiting. He holes up in the Blackwatch common area and sits on the couch with the TV playing old reruns of Gunsmoke, and counts down each minute with a small transmitter tucked safely in his palm. 

_Ping me when you get back,_ is the message that sits, currently unread, in his outbox. _I’ll wait for you._

By one-thirty Jesse’s getting weary; by two he’s losing hope. Three-thirty-five rolls around and it’s all he can do to keep his eyes open. He dozes off once or twice, to a lull in the brassy music.

_I’ll wait for you._

He’s startled back awake by the transmitter buzzing against his skin--a soft noise, barely heard over Marshal Dillon’s accusatory drawl. He looks down at the thing blearily, rubbing at his eyes to clear his vision, and stares at the message blinking up at him.

_Reyes, G. [Sent: 0347]: I’m home._

Jesse’s on his feet in a heartbeat. The two words have him suddenly more full of energy than two cups of Blackwatch’s best terrible coffee, and it’s all he can do to not run back to his Commander’s quarters and tackle Reyes on the spot.

He’s optimistic--thrilled to be able to see Gabriel again--but something darker gnaws at the back of his mind, keeps his excitement at bay.

After a week with Morrison, Jesse’s not sure what kind of Gabriel he’s going to find.

He gets his answer when he reaches Gabriel’s dorm. The Blackwatch Commander stands by his bunk in a black tanktop that hugs his generous pecs and a pair of his newer BDUs, a half-opened duffel bag sitting on the floor by his feet. The only light in the room comes from the lamp in the far corner, and the harsh lighting makes the scars on Gabriel’s face look darker, the lines of his skin more severe.

Jesse’s breath catches in his throat at the sight of the bruises--big, ugly splotches, some thin like fingers, wrapped around Gabriel’s biceps, his shoulders, his wrists. This close--close enough to hear Gabriel’s deep breaths, read the depth in his brown eyes--Jesse can see them for what they are: chips in his armor, cracks in the walls.

“Oh, darlin’,” he whispers, because in the face of such marred perfection, such pain, words escape him.

Gabriel’s eyes dart to the side as his arms cross. “I didn’t expect you to be up.” His voice is sour but Jesse can’t be mad at it, especially not when he can hear the surprise underlying his Commander’s tone.

“Said I’d wait for you.” He crosses the room slowly, reaches out; his hand settles on the warmth of Gabriel’s arm, squeezes gently, and he hates how he feels those muscles tense underneath the touch. “I don’t go back on my word.”

Gabriel huffs in reply, but his heart clearly isn’t in it; his eyes are unfocused, darting past Jesse like he’s afraid someone’s going to storm into the room and ruin his makeshift peace, demand something from him. Jesse’s thumb strokes lightly over the coarse hair on Gabriel’s arm, trying to bring him back.

“...you wanna talk about it, Gabe?”

“No.” Gabriel’s voice is rough, rough like his callouses as he grabs Jesse’s wrist, tugs him bodily back toward his bunk. “I don’t want to talk--just want quiet.” He pauses, then hesitantly adds, “And you.”

Jesse’s heart skips a beat at the words, but he can’t find it in himself to say anything in reply--lest he startle Gabriel away or ruin the moment. Instead he just follows the tugs and lets Gabriel push him down onto his bunk, rolls onto his side to watch his Commander climb in too.

Gabriel’s movements are determined, something with purpose as he grabs Jesse, pulls him close; and Jesse goes willingly, tucks himself up against the broad expanse of Gabriel’s chest and revels in those arms locking around him, in the warmth of Gabriel all around. He nuzzles against one plush pectoral, then tilts his chin up to give his Commander a small, shy smile.

“I’m glad you’re home,” he murmurs, voice soft in the almost-dark. Gabriel doesn’t answer.

But that’s okay, Jesse reasons, as Gabriel’s grip tightens around him, squeezing him closer; that’s okay. Gabriel’s actions say far more than the words he can’t voice ever would, and Jesse has no problem waiting. Jesse could wait for an eternity just to let Gabriel know that everything would be alright.

As he traces his fingertips lightly over the bruises marring Gabriel’s skin, dark marks beaten deep into his muscle, Jesse worries that he’s going to have to.


End file.
